


Literary Review

by StarTravel



Series: Defiance Through Tenderness [26]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst and Humor, Communication, Feelings Are Almost Shared, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Genetic Engineering, Getting Back Together, Literary References & Allusions, Miscommunication, Self-Esteem Issues, Unreliable Narrator, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 19:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17432054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: Garak’s not sure what to make of it when Julian comes barreling into his quarters with a bag full of padds, but he ends up coming to a few realizations about both of them he’s not entirely sure he likes.





	Literary Review

Garak’s doorbell rings three times before he finally lets it slide open. He expects Sisko demanding translations or maybe Odo wanting to share another meal. He doesn’t quite expect Julian standing there, a heavy looking bag over his shoulder and a look of determination on his face.

 “Julian, what a lovely surprise.” Garak says as he spreads his arms out wide in greeting, smiling more with his teeth than with his mouth. Garak has no idea where they stand, if they’re merely friends or lovers or neither anymore, if Julian’s beseeching eyes show affection or apology.

 Julian gives nothing away, crossing the few between them and stopping in front of his end table. Julian takes a few deep breaths, closing his eyes for a moment as though trying to decide if he’s making the right choice or not. Then his eyes suddenly snap open, a small grin on his face as he looks up at Garak through his eyelashes.

 “This is _Candide_ by Voltaire. I think you’ll enjoy the disdain it holds for all its idealistic main characters, though I think the work’s particular brand of cynicism might not even be to _your_ liking.” Julian starts sardonically and without acknowledging Garak’s words, unzipping his black bag almost languidly. He lifts up a simple black padd as he speaks, setting it down on Garak’s coffee table with a little more force than strictly necessary.

 Garak raises an eye ridge as Julian leans over to reach into his bag again, lean body sharp and angular with each rigid, too quick movement. It reminds Garak of the Defiant, when Julian broke his own heart day after day and Garak put it back together again. He wonders if maybe he hadn’t done as good of a job as he thought. “I’ll take that as a compliment in spite of your tone.”

 “Good, I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Julian answers back with a wide grin, eyes sparkling a bit as he holds up another padd. Garak can’t help but smile back a little, the corners of his mouth pulling up even though doubt starts to flavor the air around them. “Here is a book of love poems. The theme, however, is forgiveness and self-sacrifice, which I think you’ll appreciate. ‘I Should Not Dare Leave My Friend’ by Emily Dickinson in particular captures how I felt when you had that wire in your brain.”

 “Is this your subtle way of telling me I don’t understand how much it hurt _you_ to see me suffering?” Garak asks dryly as he runs a hand along the edge of the padd. Julian pushes it into his waiting hands, fingers darting away from the smooth metal too quickly for Garak to catch them and hold them still.

 Julian waves a hand through the air dismissively, pulling yet another novel from his bag. This time he smirks at Garak, gaze glinting in a way that manages to be pointed and contrite at once. “Oh no, I think you understand perfectly. Now, here’s Henry James’ _Daisy Miller_. It’s all about a man rejecting the woman he loves because he knows his friends wouldn’t approve. It’s not a perfect analogy, really, but both of you are shameless flirts.”

 Garak can’t help the snort that slides from his lips, as undignified as it is. “And you’re suggesting you’re not?”

 “Like I said, it’s not a perfect analogy.” Julian answers with a touch of huffiness, though he’s still smiling as he flips the book back and forth a few times between his palms. Then he drops the book to the table, pulling a padd out of his bag and lying it flat on the table. “Now, for our time on the Defiant and Risa, I thought that _The Lords of The Rings_ would be fitting. Not all of it course, but the parts about Sam and Frodo certainly. You and Sam don’t have so much in common, but you both love gardening and a tragically beautiful young man.”

 “Your modesty is astounding.” Garak answers dryly as he takes the padd from Julian’s hand. This time he manages to brush his hand along the side of Julian’s own, touch almost electric. Julian swallows, gaze dropping as quickly as his hand falls to his side.

 “Thank you, Garak.” Julian mumbles in a voice that manages to be amused and irritated at the same time. Julian takes a few steps back toward the door, as though he meant to make this frankly ridiculous gesture and then just _leave_. Garak supposes he learned that from him. 

 “Julian, is it human custom to give their lover books detailing their relationship at a break up …” Garak trails off and wonders if he should let himself hope, let _Julian_ hope when he’s still not sure this can be anything but a brief respite for them both. Garak belongs to Cardassia. That is where his heart lies and where he’ll put his love. He’s not sure how much feeling he can also give to someone who does not, will not belong to the same. Still, the words slide free from his throat. “Or reconciliation.”

 “No, but I’m also not technically human.” Julian reminds him with a bright grin, gaze challenging and self-deprecating all in one flick of his eyelashes. Garak can’t quite stop the rush of pride that goes through him at Julian’s words, even though he knows Julian would hate it. He’s always thought it would do Julian good to accept all the ways in which he’s different, special.

 Garak merely tilts his head though, smiling with his eyes more than with his mouth. “So this is unique to you?”

 “Unique to us. This isn’t at all how I ended things with Palis.” Julian corrects him almost primly, expression carefully neutral as he glances down at the padds with a low exhale. Garak watches as he lines them up so they’re side by side, edges even and any sign of disarray gone. Then Julian glances up and smiles at him with dead eyes. “And it’s not a breakup or an attempt at reconciliation. It’s a gift.”

 “A gift?” Garak asks as he raises an eye ridge, glancing down at the padds spread out on his coffee table, gleaming in the low light of his room. He supposes it _is_ a gift of a kind, a literal representation of the Federation novels Julian associates with them. Garak mostly just wishes he’d included a few Cardassian novels as well.

 “Yes, I’m giving you all the different versions of me you ever imagined so you don’t have to waste your time with the reality anymore.” Julian sweeps his arms out wide, smiling so hard that the lines around his eyes crinkle. Garak doesn’t find that as charming as he usually does, something off in the lines of his skin and the tension in his mouth. His expression makes as little sense as his words.

 Garak raises an eyebrow and glances down at the novels. He’s sure each piece of syntax, no matter how beautifully or carefully wrought it might be, doesn’t hold half the complexity of Julian. “The reality being?”

 “Oh come now, Garak. You’ve said it before, if I make you say it again it will be cliche.” Julian’s voice borders on a sing-song, wiggling his eyebrows as he leans in and ducks his head a little, almost playfully. But there’s something almost stilted about his movements, as though he’s trying to play act himself rather than merely being.

 Garak can’t help frowning a bit at that, the ridges along his brow furrowing. He’s always appreciated Julian’s genuineness, his inability to truly lie even when he’s trying to. He doesn’t want to lose that.

 “Annoying, sanctimonious, and smug.” Garak lists off almost robotically, perfect recall coming back to him. First when the wire was burning holes in the back of his brain and then, less literally when Ziyal lied cold. He lashed out both times and both times he thought Julian was teflon to his words. “I didn’t realize my words had such an effect.”

 “They didn’t, that isn’t what I meant. I’m sorry, Garak.” Julian answers with a teasing voice, but his gaze is contrite and reassuring as he reaches a hand out. Julian hovers it in the air in the space between Garak’s neck and shoulder for a few seconds. Then, as though thinking better, Julian pulls his hand back and awkwardly hits at invisible strings in the air. Garak can’t help the fond smile that comes over his face, both at the awkward honesty coming through and at Julian’s careful assurance. ”But that doesn’t mean they’re not right.”

 Garak raises an eye ridge carefully, not disagreeing. Julian _is_ annoying, sanctimonious, and smug, as well as melodramatic and petulant as he’s being now. But he’s also many, many other things as well and he always thought Julian knew that. “And you’ve taken our words to heart.”

 “I’m not quite as incapable of recognizing my flaws as you all think.” Julian answers him in a wry voice, smile rueful and soft. This time it reaches his eyes and Garak supposes that’s _something_. Julian tilts his head to the left, body following after a moment as he crosses his arms against his chest and one ankle over the other.

 Garak meets his gaze steadily and takes in his posture, too casual to be truly natural. Garak feels their on a precipice here, that what he says next will either push Julian away or bind them together more than they were before. Garak’s not entirely sure which he should want. “But possibly far worse at seeing your positives than we did.”

 Julian shakes his head quickly, hands gliding through the air as he speaks in a way that borders on the erratic. His tone comes out more bitter than amused, lips curling with a disdain Garak doesn’t think is for him. “Oh, not at all, Garak. You just like to imagine positives that aren’t there. It makes sense, you _are_ a romantic. But you have the potential to be a great - no, a truly _good_ man and you deserve to be with one as well.”

 Garak’s so sweetly amused by Julian’s faith in him that it he almost misses the implicit meaning behind Julian’s words. Garak has the potential to be a good man. Julian believes that he himself does not, is not. For a moment Garak feels a bile of frustration and rage building in his stomach and sliding up through his lungs and hearts like one of his better poisons.

 Julian’s goodness has been one of his only constants over the past five years, one of the few things Garak trusts in absolutely. In some ways, Julian is, if not quite his conscience, a kind of guiding light, a reminder of the type of people he wants to protect and foster.

 Garak thinks about telling Julian all of this, the fumes rising from is stomach and up into his throat. Then he thinks better of it. He takes a few deep breaths and focuses on the spare surroundings of Julian’s quarters. “You don’t think you’re a good man?”

 “That’s not the point.” Julian runs a hand across his face as he speaks, words clipped in frustration. Garak watches as Julian paces the slight space between himself and the edge of his coffee table, basically just going around in one small circle as he waves his hands back and forth in frustration.

 Garak waits until Julian comes to a full stop again, brow furrowed and mouth pressed into a thin line. Garak smiles in a bemused way he knows always irritates Julian. “Then what exactly is the point here, Julian?”

 “That you deserve more than just stories!” Julian snaps with a gaze that’s like a sacred flame, bright and determined, as though he’ll be able to convince Garak of his inherent goodness if he just blazes at the right intensity long enough. “You’re better than you think you are. You’re kinder and more compassionate than you’d ever admit, you’re ridiculously loyal and protective even when the things you protect don’t deserve it, you’re witty and cultured and so clever that it’s almost _obnoxious_.”

 Garak tilts his head to the left and swallows lightly, trying and he suspects failing to keep his expression _perfectly_ neutral. A rush of emotion builds in his chest, a sentimental fondness and hopefulness, a warmth that for now is reserved almost entirely for Julian. Julian who believes in him despite knowing more of his sins than he should. “You’re no less brilliant than me.”

 “But that’s not real! That’s the point!” Julian cries as he throws his hand out, frustration mixing with the raw, almost desperate quality in his voice. Garak swallows and tries to keep a neutral expression even as he laughs at himself for not piecing the truth together sooner. “Everything you find fascinating about me is the work of some other doctor. They’re the one you should flirt with.”

 “I would, but unfortunately they’re not here.” Garak tells him with a wide smile, gaze wry as he brushes his index finger along Julian’s knuckles. Julian follows them with his eyes, breath coming out a bit more even than it has a few seconds ago. “Not everything good about you was created in a lab, Julian.”

 For a second Julian looks like he might capitulate, but then he tears himself away Garak’s touch and shakes his head back and forth several times. “Yes it was! Everything about _me_ was. That’s the thing, you and Miles don’t understand. I remember before. I remember Jules. Maybe not in much detail, but I do.”

 “Memory is faulty, Julian.” Garak tells him softly as he holds his hands up in front of him carefully. He doesn’t doubt that Julian remembers some of his own - because they are _his_ even if he insists on compartmentalizing Jules into someone else - troubles. Garak sees it in the way Julian flinches whenever he has to get a shot despite being a doctor, in the way he sometimes defends the Jem H’adar despite how many times they’ve tried to kill him or how many he’s had to kill.

 But he also knows Julian and how he decided his parents actions were akin to murder. And Garak knows the ways in which Julian’s arrogance and his self-recrimination run towards martyrdom.

 He can see it now in Julian’s shaking shoulders and attempt to push Garak away. Sometimes he thinks they might be more alike than he even thought. “Not ours.”

 “Even ours.” Garak corrects him with a gentleness that’s become reserved for a special few. Julian, Ziyal, Mila when she’s not there, and he thinks Parmak if ever saw the man again. Garak reaches his right hand out to clasp Julian’s shoulder, thumb brushing along the side of his neck. This time he doesn’t pull away. “And you’re wrong, anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

 Julian scoffs lie in his throat, bringing a hand up to press against Garak’s elbow. Garak expects Julian to rip his hand away from him, but instead Julian simply rests his hand there. “Am I now? You don’t like that I can keep up with you when no one else on this ship can?”

 “You can’t go from hating yourself to bragging in seconds.” Garak answers as he makes a tutting sound with his tongue, raising an eye ridge when Julian’s expression takes on a slightly more petulant bent. a surge of relief fills him though, more used to this easy, playful confidence and momentary immaturity than this side of Julian he’s kept so carefully hidden Garak’s only suspected it for a little over a year. “But that’s not the only reason I like you, or even the main one.”

 “So you like the fact that I’m annoying?” Julian asks dryly, leaning in so there’s just a touch less space between them. Julian licks his lips slowly and then bites the lower one.

 “When you’re annoying Dukat.” Garak admits with a quick roll of his shoulders. He feels gratified when Julian laughs in spite of himself. “But no, I enjoy your curiosity and your desire to understand everything, how determined you are to solve every problem you come across. I appreciate your optimism and your enduring faith that people are good, even though the universe keeps proving you wrong time and time again. I admire how compassionate you are-”

 “I’m not.” Julian cuts him off in a clipped voice that doesn’t quite hide the disgust in his voice. Julian doesn’t pull away, but his shoulders tremble slightly under Garak’s touch as he looks at him as if expecting condemnation. “A compassionate person wouldn’t have wanted to surrender.”

 “You thought it would save more life in the long run.” Garak corrects him, not quite able to keep the chiding out of his voice. It’s not often, but sometimes when Julian gets so caught up in the details and the numbers, he forgets the element of people. Both good - the federation has overcome impossible odds before as much as Garak hates to admit and Sisko at least understands war - and the bad - that the Founders might not spare their lives long enough for a new generation to rise, that they might replace Romulans and Vulcans with Vorta and humans and Cardassians with Jem H’adar.

 “But at what cost?” Julian mutters in a wretched voice as he presses his face against Garak’s chest for one moment, as though trying to bury himself in the velvet of his shirt. He wonders if this is how Julian was after the Telpan Blight as well. Then Julian pulls back, not quite out of reach but with just enough distance to make Garak clenches his hands in borderline despair.

 “I can’t make you believe that I find you fascinating if you don’t want to, Julian.” Garak tells him in a tight voice, some of his frustration evident in spite himself. That isn’t what Garak means, but for once he has no idea how to word his feelings about Julian or this strange rush of self-hatred that comes over the other man with increasing frequency that Julian refuses to acknowledge.

 “Really? You’ve made me believe so many things before.” Julian answers with a bitter scoff, the fire in his gaze harsher than it was a few moments ago. But there’s also something brittle and fragile there. Julian swallows and meets his gaze, expression softening as he takes a step closer to him. “And that’s the thing. Fascinating. I don’t want to just be _fascinating to you_. I love you, Elim. You spent two months in bed with me and three weeks _with_ me, and then you told me our relationship had a time limit and completely avoided me the moment we got back on the base.”

 Garak is thankful that Julian doesn’t mention that first night back at Deep Space 9, when he lashed out at him and then let Julian console him through the night. Roles reversed yet again. Garak swallows and meets Julian’s gaze and decides to tell him at least a fourth of the truth. “I was trying to protect you.”

 “I’m not in need of your protection. I’m not Cardassia.” Julian answers back in a brittle voice even as he comes to rest a hand against Garak’s jaw. Garak takes a deep breath. No, Julian isn’t. In some ways, he’s more - brilliant and with Federation protection, capable of making his own decisions rather than having them thrust upon him by men like Dukat. In other ways Garak thinks Julian needs him more, kind and idealistic, still soft in places where most men would be hard by now.

 “No, you’re not.” Garak tells Julian quietly as he brings his own hand to rest against Julian’s cheek, the other thumbing at the space between his shoulder and his neck again. Garak smiles faintly, not sure where this could go or if it’s a good choice for either of them. He makes his choice anyway. “Julian, stay here for a bit.”

 “All right.” Julian murmurs with a soft smile, the hand on his jaw sliding up a bit while his other one presses against his hip. Garak doesn’t remember which of them moves first. He’s not sure it matters.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you think anything else needs to be tagged!
> 
> Comments? Questions? :)


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